


Fuck U Betta

by Waffle-o (XylB)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, PWP, frat Ryan, slutty MDB Jeremy, so the MDB outfit but with denim cut-offs instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 03:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/Waffle-o
Summary: A fuckingfratboy, Jeremy thinks, blue polo and backwards green cap, fuckingkhakishorts and an air of easy confidence that you just don’t get anywhere else.Well, if Jeremy was looking for an easy lay.(Title is from Neon Hitch's "Fuck U Betta"!)





	Fuck U Betta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smittenbritain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/gifts).



> All I'll say is [smittenbritain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/smittenbritain) inspired this.

Jeremy tugs at the hem of his shorts and rubs a hand over his chin, looking out at the blue-hued walls of the frat house, pulsing in time with the heavy-bass music thumping through the place. There’s cheering somewhere in the corner, where a couple of people are up on a table, but Jeremy knows over there won’t get him much action.

He swigs his beer again, hovering on the edge of too-tipsy, and looks around the room once more – there’s a big-rig stereo system and a DJ table, a neon-vibrant makeshift dancefloor, and the drinks’ corner – that’s where he’s spent a lot of his time, idly chatting up whoever seems interested, but none of them seem to quite check all of Jeremy’s boxes. Although he probably shouldn’t be too picky, if he’s just after a one-night thing, but his standards are unhelpfully ingrained in him.

The music changes and Jeremy’s eyes sweep around to the right – and land on someone, casually sitting in a fold-out chair and laughing with the guy standing beside him, a red Solo cup in his hand. The standing guy has tattoos all the way up to his T-shirt sleeves, a definite more punk-look especially in contrast with the rumpled polo shirt on the sitting guy. A fucking _frat boy_ , Jeremy thinks, blue polo and backwards green cap, fucking _khaki_ shorts and an air of easy confidence that you just don’t get anywhere else.

Well, if Jeremy was looking for an easy lay.

Jeremy drains the last of his drink and crumples the Solo cup against the wall before dropping it into a bin and wandering over, taking his time to chat with people on the way – he comes across Michael briefly and they share a complicated handshake before Michael disappears back into the fray with a shout of _fuckin’ get some, Lil J!_ that makes Jeremy roll his eyes.

Tattoos leaves with a pat to Frat’s shoulder, perhaps a promise to come back in his smile before he heads off to the drinks corner. Jeremy grins. Steels himself with a deep breath before he sidles up to the chairs and boldly perches on Frat’s lap. The guy’s head whips around to look at him, but he doesn’t immediately push him off, and Jeremy takes that as a good sign. Although he highly doubts he’ll get much further; he’s not usually frat guys’ type. For once, he doesn’t fill a D cup.

“Want a dance?” Jeremy jokes, uncaring of the people around them. The guy laughs and leans back in the chair, cocking an eyebrow. Stupidly-blue eyes rake down over Jeremy as his mouth curls into a grin.

“Sure,” Frat says, laughing again when Jeremy snickers and reaches for the Solo cup to knock that back – it’s fake-sugary sweet and odd but there’s no alcohol kick to it at all, in fact, it tastes an awful lot like – Coke? _Diet_ Coke?

Jeremy takes another look at Frat and determines that the guy is fucking stone-cold sober, _has_ to be to be drinking that shit at a fuckin’ house party – then decides that if a sober frat boy is agreeing to a lap dance from a slightly tipsy Jeremy, then he’s in _business_. Even if he does expect to get shoved off five minutes in because said sober frat boy hadn’t realised Jeremy was at least partially _serious_ with the flirting.

The music bumps up faster and Jeremy laughs as he steadies himself with a grip on one of the guy’s shoulders – the guy laughs with him and spreads his legs a little to let Jeremy sit better, and with the change of the lights to pink-purple, Jeremy starts his little half-assed lame lapdance, his knees tucked in close to the ridiculous khaki shorts as he sets up a grind in Frat’s lap.

It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, but Frat just snickers _with_ him, not at him, those stupidly-blue eyes levelly trained on him as he leans against the back of the chair. Jeremy tries to keep in time with the thumping beat, thighs flexing as he deliberately drags against the guy’s legs, not close enough to be against his crotch – Jeremy’s forward but he’s not _that_ forward, and anyway, it gives him time to study the guy. Blue eyes, brown hair, broad shoulders that the polo shirt can’t hide even with his arms hooked over the back of the chair – not that Jeremy’s hiding much himself, not in his tank top and cut-offs combo, but hey. His ass looks great in these. The polo shirt does disguise his torso, though, but Jeremy has no doubt it’s just as great as the rest of him is, wonders if he’ll get to find out –

The music abruptly switches pace and Jeremy jumps in surprise, his knee slipping off the edge of the chair before he can catch himself and his hands fly out to the guy’s shoulders – hands land on his hips and tug him back into place, and _stay_ there as Jeremy lifts his head and – and finds the guy suddenly _much_ closer, only inches between their faces.

They’re caught in stasis for a moment, Jeremy’s heart beating double-time from his near-fall and from here he can see the details of the guy, the slightest pink tinge to his cheeks and the almost-indiscernible black-blown of his pupils, edging out the stupid-blue by millimetres the longer Jeremy watches.

Jeremy doesn’t quite know what to do, but thankfully the guy decides for more, tugging him further in on his lap and guiding his hips down in a new rhythm, slower to match every second beat of the music and very much more deliberate, and there’s no way he doesn’t feel how hard Jeremy is. The khaki shorts are a little too baggy for him to notice the same – until the guy urges him to sit and _oh_ , that’s – that’s definitely not a phone in his pocket nudging at Jeremy’s thigh.

Jeremy swivels his hips in a rough figure eight and rests his forehead against Frat’s, panting heavily as Frat guides him into dirty grinding, no more suggestion about it at all, and if Jeremy were maybe slightly less tipsy he wouldn’t tip his head and close the gap but he does and Frat gasps before kissing back, open-mouthed and messy from both sides. Jeremy runs his tongue over Frat’s lower lip, picks up the familiar fake-sweet tang of diet soda and plunges deeper to make it almost fuckin’ _pornographic_ , the filthy-wet smacks of their mouths audible to them even over the thunderous music, all while Jeremy grinds on his lap and shivers at the way Frat’s hands curl intently around his hips.

“Your place or mine?” The guy breathes between dizzying kisses, fingers flexing on Jeremy’s hips as Jeremy pants.

“Mine.”

\-- 

It’s hassle getting out of the crowd but almost even more so getting to their _car_ – the fresh air sobers Jeremy up the rest of the way but Frat’s kisses make him dizzy all over again, stolen between parked cars and empty spaces as they stumble their way to Frat’s car.

They don’t even make it back to Jeremy’s place. Frat opens the passenger door for him and pushes him down to sit sideways and before Jeremy can twist to put his feet in the footwell, Frat _drops_ to his knees, shouldering between Jeremy’s legs and putting those kiss-swollen lips to Jeremy’s exposed thigh to render him breathless all over again, a helpless noise leaving his throat as Frat’s hands roam up to his fly.

Frat’s generous with his kisses, glances up to meet Jeremy’s eyes as he lays kisses all up his inner thighs, right to the hem of the shorts, and then he continues _up_ , nuzzling against Jeremy’s erection before he’s even undone the zipper, pressing his mouth to it over the denim and groaning deliberately deep to make Jeremy _twitch_ under his cheek. Jeremy curses. Frat smirks.

Frat rips the zipper down and scoots the shorts down only enough to flip over the elastic of Jeremy’s briefs and take his cock out, smoothly wrapping his hand around the base as his other hand disappears behind himself to his back pocket. Moments later he procures a condom, taps it playfully against Jeremy’s thigh as he drags his fist up Jeremy in a slow stroke, thumbs under the head and chuckles at the pre-come that drips from Jeremy in a slow string, right onto his denim cut-offs.

The guy tears open the condom and rolls it on right over where Jeremy’s leaking, smoothing it down with his fingers before he presses his mouth to Jeremy’s dick – Jeremy jerks and moans softly, one hand gripping the car roof above him as the other digs into the plush leather seat beside his ass. Frat kisses the side of his shaft, goes to the base and lays a path of wetter kisses up until he gets to the head, laps playfully at the tip with a wicked smirk. 

“W – Wait, wait,” Jeremy pants – Frat pauses with Jeremy’s cock against his cheek, his lips already pressing another kiss to halfway down his length.

“What’s your name?” Jeremy asks.

“Ryan,” Frat says. “Yours?”

“Jeremy.”

“Jeremy,” Ryan repeats, rolling the name in his mouth and grinning. “I like it.”

And before Jeremy can speak again, Ryan’s back to kissing him, wet smacks to the latex before he works his way back up to the head and _now_ he opens his mouth for it, curls his tongue against the underside as he slides down onto the first inch. He takes it slow but _steady_ , his eyes closing as he sinks down on Jeremy, spit leaking out the corners of his mouth to drool down the sides of Jeremy and pool at his base. Jeremy doesn’t even _care_ about the mess, just wants Ryan to fuckin’ _never_ stop, keep going until Jeremy’s in his throat and all Jeremy can feel is the hot-wet-tight of his mouth.

Ryan gets most of the way down – Jeremy brushes the back of his throat and Jeremy gasps at it, watching helplessly as Ryan’s spit-slick lips stretch around him – and _moans_ on the slide up, a heady vibration that goes right to Jeremy’s balls and makes him groan softly above Ryan. Ryan’s tongue rubs insistently at his slit again, dampened through the condom but still sharp-sensitive enough to make Jeremy swear and jerk, biting his lip to try and quiet himself while Ryan sinks back down.

Ryan’s slow, _thorough_ circuits are intense in the best way, the way that makes Jeremy twitch against his tongue and moan at the power trip of frat boy Ryan on his knees, happily blowing Jeremy with strong sucks of his mouth, with the constant tease of Jeremy hitting the back of his throat, and by this rate Jeremy’s going to come before he wants to – he was _hoping_ he’d come maybe all over his bedsheets with Ryan balls-deep in him, but if Ryan keeps fucking _going_ like this he’s going to lose it all in a condom right _fucking_ now.

“Ohh _fuck_ ,” Jeremy groans, toes curling his boots as Ryan slides down once more – except this time when he pulls back up it’s not slow.

It’s fast, and _tight_ , and Jeremy almost shivers right out of his skin when Ryan starts _bobbing_ , must be able to sense how close Jeremy is, maybe by the fingers curled around Jeremy’s base, maybe by the ones on his thigh, feeling every flex and jump of muscle in sordid response to the filthy sucks of Ryan’s mouth – but either way, it knocks all the breath right out of Jeremy, his mouth dropping open on a louder moan as Ryan blinks up at him, a little awkward with the angle, but then he shuts his eyes and twists his tongue against the sensitive vein and he’s _definitely_ trying to make Jeremy come here.

And it’s absolutely going to work, Jeremy’s on that hair-thin edge of orgasm already, watching his spit-soaked dick fuck in and out of Ryan’s mouth and he thinks he’s maybe got five fucking seconds before he blows. And that’s barely enough time to spit out the polite warning.

“Ah, ah, go – gonna come,” he pants, keening faintly in the back of his throat. “G – Gonna, _ah_ – ”

Jeremy goes shivery all over with the next suck, his skin tingling and muscles tensing and he’s _soso_ close – and Ryan _groans_ again, deep and rumbly and shocking Jeremy’s nerves into overdrive and he comes with a punched-out moan, hunching over a little as he comes into the condom – Ryan stays where he is, his mouth firmly around Jeremy as he licks at what he can and coaxes him through it with gentle sucks, using the hand around Jeremy’s base to jack him a little.

“Ngh, fu- _uck_ ,” Jeremy moans, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the roof and the seat, and his eyes slammed shut moments ago but he cracks them open again to look at Ryan, backwards cap and all, lips tight around Jeremy and his cheeks flushed pink as he withdraws to only focus on the head.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jeremy spits as he relaxes, stretching his leg out again as he shudders with pleasant aftershocks. Ryan pops off with a wet _smack_ , keeping Jeremy steady with his hand as he looks up at him, a lewd string of spit connecting his lower lip with the filled tip of the condom.

Ryan keeps the eye contact as he kisses Jeremy’s cock, chaster kisses down the softening shaft and back up to the head, wet smacks against the shiny latex, until he pulls away completely, breaking the string of spit with his hand and carefully pulling the condom off Jeremy to tie it off and drop it to the ground. Jeremy groans quietly and lowers his hands – still trembling in the knuckles – to tuck himself back in, scooching his shorts back up to zip and button them. Ryan waits where he is, one hand on each of Jeremy’s knees.

“Still wanna go to yours?” He asks, a hopeful little glint in his eyes, and Jeremy’s gobsmacked for a second that Ryan isn’t going to end it _here_ , isn’t going to ask Jeremy to get him back and bam that’s it, done, a quick carpark fuck before going back to the party – and Jeremy’s not a fucking _fool_ , if stupidly-blue-eyed and stupid-tall frat boy wants to spend the night with him then he’s jumping on that chance like it’s the last train out of town.

“Yeah – Yeah, if you want,” Jeremy says, and Ryan grins, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before pushing himself up to stand – but he doesn’t move back immediately, instead leans in and glances down at Jeremy’s lips a little suggestively, but doesn’t push in further, waits for Jeremy to respond.

Jeremy responds by hooking an arm around Ryan’s shoulders and kissing him, just as deep and dirty as before, moaning softly when Ryan groans into his mouth and eagerly kisses back.

“Mm – _mm_ , gimme directions,” Ryan mumbles between kisses, clearly reluctant to leave, but he manages eventually, one more kiss to Jeremy’s lips before he backs up to go to the other side of the car.

“Near Green Park,” Jeremy says. “You know where that is?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says with a nod, and pauses a moment before actually leaving the passenger side. He reaches up to lift his cap off, running a hand through his hair as he offers the hat to Jeremy.

“Suits you better,” he says with a conspiratorial little grin, and Jeremy laughs as he takes the cap, tugs it on while Ryan makes his way around to the driver’s side.

“Could be worse,” Jeremy says when Ryan appears behind the wheel. Ryan shoots him a glance, his mouth curling up in a smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees, starting up the car. “Tell you what, you can keep it.”


End file.
